Tutoring Miss Molly (10 page)

He cringed and gave a curt nod. He would not explain himself to her. Especially when could not explain it  himself.

She glanced over her shoulder to look into his face, trying to read his emotions. He shifted his eyes and cleared his throat. Schooling his features to an easy indifference, he pulled on his breeches and shrugged into his black shirt.

“Do you not find me desirable?” she asked.

With his back to her, he almost lost his balance as he pushed a foot into a difficult boot.

Devlin faced her, his eyes blank. “Curse these obstinate boots!” Stamping the ground, his foot finally pushed into the shoe.

“Did you not hear me?”

“I would think the answer obvious,” he responded, and turned to find the exit to the circle of trees. Damn erection was cursedly uncomfortable.

They rode back to the manor in silence, both lost in thoughts of frustration and desire.

Molly glanced surreptitiously at him then quickly averted her eyes.

He rolled his tongue around his mouth, her musky taste taunting him. He wanted to halt their mounts and taste her all over again, but quelled the sexual impulse. He had hurt her, but did not know what else to do. The feelings she created within him were new and not entirely helpful to his wager. Getting involved with Molly would only bring pain when she went up for auction. He must tutor her then let her go her own way.

Sensing she was about to talk to him, he rode ahead. He was too vulnerable right now to blurt out his feelings. He had made that mistake with his cold-hearted mother.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed the breeze to caress his face when he spurred his mount to a faster pace. He would never let a woman into his heart again, even the farm girl that stirred his blood.

He walked Aphrodite through the stable doors and into her oversized stall. Devlin listened intently as Molly returned her mount, hoping she would seek him out in the end stall. But she did not come. Disappointment weighed heavily upon him. He poured extra oats into Aphrodite’s feeding trough and gave his horse an affectionate pat. Running his hand through his hair, frustration and guilt settled into his stomach.

He should talk to Molly.

Pushing the stall door open, he was about to leave when someone blocked his path.

“She’s already left.” Lady Audrey’s eyes roamed his body with unabashed hunger.

Devlin veiled his eyes. “Do you think I care?”

Pursing her red lips, Audrey studied him like a hawk. “I think you do.”

Devlin pushed past his betrothed, her strong floral perfume floating around her. “Perhaps your time would be better served by attending to your own business.”

He walked the length of the stall, vowing to complete his tutoring so he could be free of Audrey.

“My business is you, my lord husband,” she called after him. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Chapter Eight

Strolling through the gardens, Kenneth stiffened when he saw Molly stride across the lawn from the stables. He thought spending a sex-filled afternoon with his brother’s betrothed would bring him satisfying retribution for taking Molly away, but Audrey’s lily-white skin could not match his desire for the unusual redhead.

He stole a moment to observe her without noticing him. Her hands clenched at her sides, her long legs stomped with extended strides. She mumbled something beneath her breath. Her brow furrowed while her usual wide eyes squinted in vexation. Kenneth chuckled. He knew exactly who made her mad. It was only a matter of time. Ever since their mother died, his brother was incapable of feeling any emotion except contempt.

Kenneth whistled a jolly tune and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You sound in a happy mood.” The butler stood behind him. His severe black coat outsized his slight frame.

“I am,” Kenneth replied. “See that lovely vision walking up the stairs?”

Joves peered around him and scowled. “The unworthy commoner that almost tripped on the last step?”

Kenneth whirled around to see Molly straightening her shoulders and then opened the side glass door. “Yes,” he said and grinned. “That is she.”

“Do not tell me you are interested in that…that ill bred—”

“She is going to be mine, Joves.”

“But, my lord.” The butler placed his hand on Kenneth’s arm.

“I told you not to touch me.” Kenneth shrugged his shoulder and searched the area to ensure nobody had seen them.

Joves stepped back. “I apologize. It will not happen again.”

“It better not. Do you want people to suspect?”

The old man shook his head, and his mouth thinned into a repentant twist.

“Good. See to it my brother never touches Molly again.”

Joves bowed. “As you wish.”

Molly walked through the empty manor, curious as to where the guests were. How did over a hundred people suddenly disappear? The rooms were quiet, the staircase deserted. A creepy sensation gave her goose bumps down her back. She hastened to her room and closed the door behind her.

“Back so soon?”

Molly jumped at a voice and twirled around. Yvette bustled around a table, placing a trencher of sweet meats and fruit on the lacey cloth.

With a hand over her beating heart, she nodded and shuffled toward the food. Her stomach growled as she plopped a piece of tart apple into her mouth.

Yvette frowned with concern. “
M
a chérie
, you look pale. Are you unwell?”

“I just need a little nourishment,” she offered in way of an excuse.

The maid shoved an overstuffed chair next to the table. Molly gratefully sat, observing the attractive woman while she stoked the fireplace.

“Where is everyone?” Molly asked.

“At this time, the guests rest in their rooms for the night’s activities.”

Taking a large cauldron from the fireplace, Yvette poured hot water into a bronzed tub. Steam rose around her golden hair, caressing the smooth skin on her face. “Devlin ordered a bath for your use.”

Molly gave an unfeminine huff. Why did he have to be so thoughtful? Especially after he ignored her on the ride home. He desired her but kept her at a distance. His disposition changed like old Jean’s windmill. “Does Devlin order a bath for all his women?”

“No, my lady, er…Miss Molly, you are the only one who is afforded privacy. All the other guests use the commune bath downstairs.” Yvette winked, “However, much more goes on in the bath than cleaning oneself.”

“I am in no doubt,” Molly answered, anticipating all the possibilities she could have with Devlin in a large bath. He would not be able to escape her then.

Yvette helped Molly out of her dusty green gown and into the tub. Sighing as the warm water covered her body, Molly leaned her head against the metal rim. She closed her eyes and allowed the soothing water to relax her muscles.

Yvette picked up a rose scented soap from a dish nearby and ran its smooth texture over Molly’s shoulders.

“You are so tense,” she said. “I will try to help you.”

The maid worked the soap into a lather down her arms and over her collarbone. Then she trailed a lazy line around Molly’s breasts and brushed the bar across her raised nipples. A ripple of excitement shot through her. She swallowed and kept her eyes shut. Should she tell the maid to stop or allow her to continue?

Yvette cupped Molly’s breasts in both hands and massaged them gently. “You have lovely breasts,
ma chérie
.”

Oh, her hands felt really good. So tender and sensual. Molly arched her back, pressing her breasts upwards. An intimate sensation pooled between her legs, heating her blood hotter than the water.

“Do you like this?” Yvette asked.

“Hmm, yes.”

Yvette cupped the water with her hand and dribbled the liquid over Molly’s breasts, lightly washing away the soap. Lowering her head, Yvette’s tongue flicked a nipple, teasing it into an aching bud. Her hand traced the soap as it lowered to Molly’s navel.

Molly arched with an illicit desire, instinctively opening her legs to allow the maid access to her slippery flesh. Within moments, the maid’s hand rubbed the soap up and down Molly’s throbbing cleft.

It felt so forbidden, so wrong.

She should stop her.

Squirming beneath her touch, Molly grabbed Yvette’s fingers and shoved them inside her.

Thoughts of Devlin invaded her senses and her body reacted to the skilled fingers working in and out of her slick center, Yvette’s thumb rubbing deliciously across her responsive nub.

“Come for me,” Yvette crooned in her ear. “Come for Devlin. He wants you.”

Sucking in a gulp of air, she cried in release, her world spinning in sweet agony while water splashed over the rim, soaking the thick carpet.

Gradually her body relaxed and she opened her eyes to find the blonde grinning at her. Yvette rose from her knees, her white dress saturated along with her golden locks. She looked like she had gone for a swim.

They both burst into laughter.

“I am sorry—”

“Do not apologize. I love to be wet.” Yvette winked and left to find dry clothes.

* * * *

Kenneth sat on one of the oversized settees in the conservatory. He tugged at the linen cravat around his neck. Dust particles danced in the stale air. His nose twitched to sneeze from the citrus aroma of the orange blossoms lining the back wall.

Besides the servants returning to their quarters, not many people ventured into this wing of the manor. Some said his late mother haunted this chamber, but he did not put much belief in that. If she were to linger anywhere on earth, it would not be at Harman Manor. She had hated it here.

“Ah, there you are.” Audrey sauntered into the room in a fashionable gown of turquoise and pearls.

Irritation burned in his throat. Why can’t he ever find a moment alone? “Here I am,” he stated dryly.

Audrey sat next to him on the chaise lounge and shoved him over. “I want you to kill Miss Molly,” she blurted.

He clutched a chilled glass of whiskey tighter in his palm. To his surprise, she showed no reaction as if she talked about the gardens in the Hyde Park.

“Did you hear me?” she asked.

“I wish I had not.” The afternoon meal of poached eggs and the liquor suddenly mingled in his stomach.

“I don’t care how you do it. Just get rid of that…that girl.”

“I will do no such thing.”

Audrey relaxed against the settee, the tops of her bosom shifted upwards within her low-cut gown. She twirled a yellow lock of hair around her finger. “Oh, I think you will.”

“I am many things, but I am no murderer.”

“You better learn, my lord. Or I will tell His Grace and your brother the little secret you and that butler share.”